


Sweet Dreams Are Made of These

by arisanite



Category: British Actor RPF
Genre: Demonic Possession, Demons, F/M, Horror, Kink, Sexual Content, Sexual Fantasy, Sleep, incubus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-11
Updated: 2013-07-11
Packaged: 2017-12-19 03:25:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/878866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arisanite/pseuds/arisanite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if something took over you when you sleep? What if someone visited you while you were unconscious? What if some evil entity decided to play with your dreams and you had no control at all? Would you wake up? Sweet dreams.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

You have been up all night, working on your papers and listening to your class lectures. It’s been a month or two since you’ve been in Graduate School, and you’ve been swamped with both work and readings – there are days when you just have no idea where to start. Leaning back on your wobbly computer chair, you run a hand through your brow – wondering if you’re working too hard.

You go back to your social networks, scrolling around your favourite blogs of your fandoms about blue police boxes, demon hunters, rowdy community college students, consulting detectives, despicable Norse gods – Then suddenly a headache flashes through your head when you see a particular pair of blue eyes. Like white hot pain – you wonder whether it’s a migraine, you lack some sleep, its 2am and you need to wrap up or it’s some weird supernatural shit that happens in the wee hours of the morning...

You don’t remember the name of this particular actor now.

All you remember are those freaky pair of blue eyes.

You close the tab and go back to your other social networks. You find a link your friend posted on your microblog – something about a creepypasta. You end up wasting most of the night away as you lie awake in your bed, scrolling through scary stories about tall slender creatures, ticking clocks, sleep demons, an unending forked road with a mysterious creature at each end...

You decide to turn in at the most reliable hour ever, your head aching, making you wonder if you stayed up for too long. At three am in the morning, you are torn whether you would stay in your cold bedroom, or whether you would take the comforter and sleep in your parent’s unoccupied master’s bedroom (since they left you all alone, on a beach trip in Hawaii) with the comfortable heater.

Too tired to give a damn, you gather the thickest wool blankets you can find – throw it over yourself and decide to curl up into a fetal position and fall asleep.

 

 

***

It was dark but you knew it was there. Waiting.

You were fast asleep to even bother about the details, but you felt your bed sag to the side – an amount of weight being put over the corner. You felt soft, cold hands with long digits run through the length of your leg to your inner thigh... taking it slow, taking it easy. You toss, you turn... You didn’t notice that something or someone was slowly easing your sport shorts effortless down your thighs.

For a moment, the soft caress of cold hands on your neck, on your thighs... and even inside your underwear stopped.

You hear the shuffling of clothing....

And you feel something being thrown at your bed, near your hand. For some reason you reach out and your fingers brush against it... Silk. You clamp your hands around it and realize that it’s a silken jabot. However, your brain is too drugged with sleep to even figure out what it was doing there, but then your body was ultimately distracted by the wet touch of a long hot tongue running against your neck...

Your body heats up...

You feel long digits pulling down your underwear, a strong firm pair of fingers moving against your inner folds...

The touch of the warm tongue on your neck disappeared... being replaced by wet and hungry kisses running against your collarbone, your cleavage...

But still your eyes remain closed...

Too blind to see in the darkness...

You let out a soft moan, feeling a soft tuft of wavy hair on your shoulder... as the rough, frustrated kisses move from your breasts down your exposed abdomen...

Then you felt it... two long fingers entering your depths – instigating an uncomfortable twitch through your entire body, emanating from between your legs.

Your eyes snap open, with your vision swelling in darkness.

Cold sweat forming on your brow, you couldn’t move your shoulders, your arms, your everything...

You feel your nipples perk up, realizing that your shirt has been removed...

Your chest begins to heave out of fear, as the only thing you can move are your eyes as you frantically search the room for any sign of light, any sign at all... Any sign of the predator who is currently on top of you, violating your body, entering your soul...

That’s when you see it.

Glinting in the darkness...

Right on top of your head...

A pair of breathtaking, yet spine-chilling blue eyes appear above you, their face swallowed by the darkness.

You blink.

You bolt upright, suddenly awake. You are relieved that you can move, your hands clutching your body – glad that you’re still in your night shirt and your sport shorts are still intact. Your panties may be a bit wet, but you know it’s not lust that took over you that night as you try to catch your breath from all your fearful panting...

It has to be something else.


	2. Chapter 2

Your colleagues nudge you during the day, noting the dark circles around your eyes. You brush them off, saying that you’ve been reading through your books the entire night. They laugh about it, saying they don’t believe you. A male co-worker of yours jokes about you watching porn. You laugh at him weakly, really really disturbed by the comment. You are tempted not to spend lunch with them and try to sleep in the comfort of your airconditioned office instead.

That is, if you can sleep.

You come home from work, take your pre-set dinner out of the fridge and eat groggily at the counter. You contemplate on watching a movie or just browsing through your social networks. But then you’re afraid that something would trigger your nightmares again so you decide to steer clear of the internet for now. Who knows you might end up reading horror stories to counter the disturbing appearance of a particular pair of blue eyes on your dash again...

Its only 9:30pm but you are sleepy as hell. You aren’t really in the mood for sleep but your eyes keep drooping. When you get to your room, you put your hands on your waist – noting the cold damp temperature in the area which has been probably caused by the non-stop raining through the entire week. You muse over the fact that your room is too dark and too uncomfortable after that little nightmare you had the night before so you haul your quilt and comforter in the Master’s bedroom.

You turn the heater up and fluff your pillows, readying yourself for a good’s night sleep. You still have work during the next day and you know it was a good idea to sleep early.

You try to keep a content grin on your face as you bury your nose in your pillow, as you lay down on the floor, tucked in your comforter and sheets, face down. You remind yourself that it may be a nightmare, but it’s just a dream... And dreams like that don’t do repeats.

Well... most of them.

***

That’s when you realize that maybe the heater was getting warmer.

Or was that your body?

You felt yourself moan as warmth spread over your upper torso, and you completely ignore a pair of big hands tangling themselves in your hair, pulling your face upwards. Once again you’re too drugged with sleep to even give a damn as long, torrid, hungry kisses smother your lips... the length of your neck... your clavicles... Slowly making their way down your bare chest...

It felt like there was a fireplace beside you, and your hands reach out and feel the brush of a thick-feathered rug instead of your comforter. You are tempted to open your eyes, but then those long, slender hands gently cover your eyelids... refusing you to see.

The other hand slowly move to grip your bare hips as you feel a strong, firm shaft enter you in between your legs. It doesn’t hurt (despite the fact that you are aware that you’re still a virgin), but it allowed a warm fiery feeling emanate from your waist and up to your stomach... filling your chest with lust and passion as it started throbbing inside of you.

Whoever it was removed their hand from your eyes, clamping it hard against your other hip as the entity stated to rock itself against you, pounding their shaft deeper and deeper into your chasm – causing you to groan in ecstasy... not even knowing what is coming over you.

To your surprise, you can move your hands – despite not having the ability to open your eyes. You run your hands up big, firm biceps... and broad, well-structured shoulders. You couldn’t speak, but you can tell that your assailant has a beautiful physique... But what makes you wonder is why you seem to be reciprocating their sexual advances... It seems like you have lost control of your body...

Your hands grip harder on his shoulders as the movement of his hips, driving his manhood into your folds become more fervent... Pulling himself out and then slamming his entire length into you, second after second...

Unable to process your thoughts or even your movements, you feel your hand move further upward... Your fingers detect a strong jawline... sharp cheekbones... and eventually your fingers find themselves tangled in long, soft curls... Making you wrinkle your eyebrows in the middle of being pounded and fucked into oblivion...

That’s when you feel the entity lean down towards you, dragging their lips from your cheek down to your lobes... licking the swirls of your outer ear...

“Isn’t sweet dreams... made out of this... darling?” A husky, sensual voice whispered in the middle of grunts, sending a nasty chill down your spine.

You were dying to open your eyes when you felt his hips twitch, releasing himself into you... causing you to cry out –

Your eyes flutter open.

You are drenched with sweat, the comforter in a messed up, contorted position – with the quilts flung away from your body. Once again, you find your clothes intact... but what bothered you is that your shirt has been unbuttoned to reveal your cleavage... when in fact that you only had one button released when you slept that night.

Frustrated, scared and out of your wits... You turn off the heater, surrounding yourself with the cold and you decide to keep the nightlight open. You pull yourself along with your comforter and blankets in a corner, hugging your knees, refusing to sleep.

In the darkness you felt a shadow. A shadow you can’t see.

You check the time on your phone – it’s already 5am.

You decide to return to your room, open all the lights and continue your readings instead. You are not going back to sleep after that.


	3. Chapter 3

“Can I sleep over with you tonight?” You tell your best-friend unceremoniously as you enter her bedroom window through a hidden ladder you’ve known about since you were kids.

“What’s wrong?”

Your best-friend of ten years is working with you in the same industry. However, you are from separate (or even rival) offices. You almost share the same shifts, though you haven’t had the chance to hang around for quite a long time. She’s the person you run to when you lose the internet or maybe when you’re sick and tired of your parents, and she does the same thing with you. She understands your love for The Doctor, Sam and Dean Winchester and even Fitzwilliam Darcy.

But at your current age, she finds it ridiculous that you’re climbing over her window, begging for a sleepover because of a recurring nightmare you can’t even explain.

“I don’t know,” you exclaim, running a hand through your hair. “It’s either I’m being haunted or my house is haunted. I just don’t want to sleep alone tonight.”

She throws a pillow at your face. You let it hit you, hoping it would wake you up. Nonetheless, you’re happy to be spending the night with someone you’re very comfortable with.

“Nightmares and bogeymen are for children,” she exclaims. “You’re too old for that.”

You would wish.

***

You have snuggled up in the foldable sleeping bag your bestfriend laid out for you. You both decide to keep the windows closed but the curtains open, even making sure that each of you have a nightlight on – just like little children who are afraid of the dark.

You are quite sure that this time, you can go through the night without breaking a sweat – finally breaking your curse.

But then, the dreams start again.

This time, you find yourself sprawled on your best-friend’s red couch, hands tied, your spaghetti straps pulled upwards exposing your chest... your shorts and underwear dangling on one leg. Surprised that this time you can see, but not scream...You find a handkerchief tied around your mouth as you come face to face with a mirror... slightly hidden in the dark, noticing how the nightlights were turned off.

However, as you look down... you felt your stomach drop as you find a head wearing a crown of long curly gold hair snuggled in the middle of your legs, long slender digits holding on to your thighs... As you finally become aware of the waves of sensation thundering through your insides as you feel a hot, wet, sensual tongue dancing wildly through your folds...

You try to bite your tongue as rumbling waves of pleasure come from in between your legs... You strain to figure out the muscular naked figure kneeling in front of you, delivering the best cunnilingus you can ever experience in the depth of your dreams...

That’s when he suddenly reached out and flicked the night light beside the red chair open, giving you a full-view of the mirror...

Where on the other side of the reflection, the terrified figure almost half-naked, receiving head from a mysterious scary stranger... doesn’t turn out to be you... But had the face of your horrified best friend...

You wanted to scream...

You couldn’t tell whether it was terror or the onset of orgasm drumming in your chest...

The nightmare was complete...

But what you weren’t prepared for was when the assailant lifts his head from between your legs... Finally giving you a full view of the face of the monster who has been haunting you for three days straight...

He fits your memories of the past few days perfectly – A prominent jawline, defined cheekbones, long curly blonde hair which crowns his head... and dastardly chilling blue eyes which glared right at you, burning down in your soul as he licks your juice hungrily, dripping from those thin, sneering lips –

You hear yourself scream.

And you hear your best-friend screaming in unison as well.

You both bolt up awake, both relieved to the Heavens realizing that you are still in your makeshift beds, both shaking like cats thrown out in the rain. However, you are fully convinced that an incubus with a disturbingly sharp and beautiful face is out to get you, and he has found out your hiding place... Taking you and your friend in one fell swoop –

“I had a nightmare again,” you exclaimed, clutching your chest – the ghost’s blue eyes still stuck in your memories.

You look at your best-friend, who was drenched with sweat as well.

“I had that dream too...” she said in shock. “I was sitting down on that chair –“ she points to her red couch. She details the exact contents of your dream, through her point of view – but this time, you’re the one she sees through the mirror. Your livid eyes look down in horror as you run both your hands through your hair, watching yourself curl up into a fetal position.

“He looked familiar –“ You start.

Your best friend’s eyes widened. “Didn’t you recognize him?” she gasped. “If I had that dream on my own, it would really drive me off my rocker with lust – but a shared dream was just creepy...”

You look at her confused. “I have no idea who he is,” you blabber. “Although I told you – he looks familiar.”

She gawks at you for a minute.

“He looks... He looks just like Tom Hiddleston.”

The name doesn’t ring a bell – “Tom wha?”

Your brain was feeding on succubi, demons, creatures of the night – and your best friend comes up with a name. You haven’t been this confused in your entire life. Does this man exist? Should you bring pitchforks? Should you hire a witch to pitch him out of your nightmares?

“You didn’t recognize him...” Your best-friend muses. “Probably there’s a demon outside your window who has been watching you, decided to pick out a face in your memories and transformed into it. You did mention online that you have just watched the Avengers and that BBC Shakespeare Unlocked series, haven’t you?”

You nod – but you don’t see the link.

“Haven’t you noticed?” she exclaims. “Loki... and that Prince Hal – he’s the same actor. If there is a succubus involved, he may have turned into him – the last thing you probably saw or remember.”

That’s when it made sense. On the night of the first dream, you were thrown off with a hard core migraine after a man’s picture on your dash flashed on your screen... a man with brilliant blue eyes. “That must be him,” you say bitterly, trying to forget the dream.

“Well, there you have it,” you hear your best-friend sigh in relief as she falls back into her bed.

“What do we do now?”

She looks at you with hopeful eyes. “There’s power in a name,” she whispers. “You have already named the demon. We can hope that you don’t have dreams after this.”

“What if that Hiddleston guy is actually a succubus?”

Your best-friend laughs. “For me, that would actually be hot. But... maybe not.”

You wrinkle your nose in disapproval as you lay back down.

You heave a sigh in hopes that maybe this is over, closing your eyes feeling the cold wind blow on your face. You try to go back to sleep, half-relieved, half-wary.

Just when you’re about to doze off...

... You feel a long slender finger drag itself across your cheek.


End file.
